


Bring On the Men

by allhailgrilledcheesus



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Any questions about it just ask, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prostitution, Rated M for later Chapters, Tim and Jack are brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7183355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhailgrilledcheesus/pseuds/allhailgrilledcheesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was the era of innovation. With the new world, Pandora, finally starting to get on it's feet, the co-owners of the old money company Hyperion have to maintain their iron grip on the world of trade. Smaller companies are trying to muscle in on the business and Tim has just the man to create a scandal starring Dahl's youngest son. </p><p>During his scandal creating, Jack finds himself in the middle of one of his own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Raise Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! This is a new AU that I have developed with the amazing Chloe (@loki-dokey), Erin (@erinchu), and Coré (@shippingismypersonalhell). Any questions, don't be shy just hmu on tumblr, @therhackoning!
> 
> This whole AU comes from one song from a musical. Bring On The Men from Jekyll and Hyde is so good so please give it a listen! [(x)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6QHiekfd3A)

Elpis was a strange city to say the least. On the one hand, it was the forefront of modern invention, the river running through it allowing for the copious trading that went on there. On the other hand, however, it was a cesspool of crime, poverty, and depravity. Many people lived in slums that were created to keep the city’s factory workers housed; prostitutes stood on many a street corner, flashing skin in hopes for a little coin. This dichotomy is the epitome of the era: the soot of the factories and the pristine marble of the centre of the city were a juxtaposition. 

Jack Lawrence was one of the lucky ones. Born into a wealthy family, he literally grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. The company of Hyperion had made its money years ago shipping to what was then the new world, Pandora. It was practically monopolising the sugar and cotton trades. Other companies didn’t stand a chance against the might that was Hyperion and Jack reaped the benefits of what his parents’ had sewn. 

Jack swirled the cognac in his glass as he looked over the family portrait set above the mantlepiece in his office. It was painted years before, of an austere family that didn’t really exist any more. Only two people pictured were still surviving; Jack’s mother had died whilst giving birth to Jack and his twin brother, Timothy. Jack’s father had never been the caring type, giving all responsibility of raising the two boys to a nanny and asking Jack’s grandmother to oversee their education and general raising. At the first chance she got, the old coot sent the boys off to boarding school, obviously blaming the two of them for what had happened to her daughter. Regardless of her attitude towards the two boys, they were the ones with the last laugh. When their father died, Timothy and Jack both gained fifty percent of the estate, including equal shares in the company. 

Jack wasn’t particularly interested in the day-to-day affairs of the company, that was more Timothy’s thing. The two may have looked alike but couldn’t have been any more different. Whilst Timothy had the brains, Jack had the brawn. Timothy was the one who dealt with the accounts, making sure that the company didn’t fall under after years of having an iron grip on the market. Jack, on the other hand, was the type of man who enjoyed the finer things in life. His natural charisma leant him towards schmoozing clients and his tendency to use violence meant that he was _less_ suited for the boardroom and more suited for dealing with the company’s less savory activities. 

Jack was interrupted from his musings by the door to his study suddenly swinging open. Jack jumped slightly but soon felt his temper rising as it was just plain _rude_ to barge in on a man during his own private time. He turned around from the painting, ready to tear into someone and teach them a thing or two about manners, yet his anger was displaced when he saw that it was his brother standing in the doorway. Timothy had a rather red face and was breathing quite heavily, as if he had been running. 

“Jonathan.” Jack’s hackles were immediately raised at the use of his birth name. Their grandmother had always used it before telling the nanny to punish them for the most menial of things - normally it was forgetting their manners, which the old woman held to a ridiculous standard. The old bat had never lifted a finger herself, always leaving the nanny with the blame if their father interjected, which was never. 

“Care for a drink, Tim? You look a touch enervated dear brother.” Jack took a sip from his own drink, trying to hide the shade of embarrassment his face was turning, before gesturing with that hand to the drinks cabinet next to his desk. Jack could see the eyeroll from across the room that came with him using the nickname. Timothy had never liked the name, preferring his full one at all costs, whereas Jack insisted on his name being shortened; just another way in which the two brothers differed. 

“No time for drinks, brother, your services are needed.” Jack cocked an eyebrow. It was a dire time if Timothy was asking Jack for help. 

Jack downed the rest of his drink and went to pour himself another, purposefully letting his brother wait for his response. It was a mean game that Jack played, but it amused him none the less. The man could feel his brother’s eyes boring into him but this only increased his amusement. 

“Services, dear brother? What could you possibly mean by that?” Jack knew he could easily fluster Timothy by playing coy, so that’s just what he did. Jack honestly didn’t know how Timothy dealt with him, but he supposed it was mainly through brotherly love; more likely it was a tolerance built up over many years of having to deal with his annoying brother. 

Timothy sighed, which was made harder by the fact that he was trying to catch his breath. “For goodness sake, Jonathan, it’s _Dahl_. They’re trying to trade weapons with the leaders of Pandora.” 

Now it was Jack’s turn to sigh. Companies that were once great, but had been crushed by the men’s parents long ago, were constantly trying to get back into the trading market. Timothy, of course, never let that happen. He was too good a businessman to let anything happen to Hyperion’s monopoly on so many markets.   
“What do I need to do?” Jack sipped from his newly made drink whilst resting on his desk. 

“I need you to take the director’s son out for a night on the town. Treat him nicely to start with, all pleases and thank yous. Then, I need you to get him into a scandal. Nothing scares good men away more than the press.” Timothy had finally regained composure, now straightening his waistcoat to look more presentable. Timothy had always cared about his appearance; ensuring that he looked impeccable helped men take him more seriously, seeing as he was rather young to be in the business of running a company. Jack, obviously, was much more casual when it came to presentation. He stood against the dark reds and magentas of the era and instead wore gold to stand out in a crowd and prove his wealth. 

Jack took another sip, mulling the idea over as he swirled the amber liquid around in his mouth. Timothy was right. The press had recently gotten their teeth into a recent string of killings in the east of the city. However, it was nothing for a man of Jack’s status to bother over, seeing as it was mainly people no one would ever even miss - Well, no one of the _Lawrence_ family’s status would miss them, so why should Jack care? One more scandal would be eaten up by the masses and cause Dahl to fall. Timothy was too cunning for his own good sometimes. 

Jack pushed off his desk and made his way over to his brother, who was now standing where Jack had been previously.   
“Strange, is it not?” Jack gestured to the painting with his glass, “Not five years ago, this is what our family looked like. Apart from Mother, of course. Now look at us. Just two men, practically running the world.” 

Timothy was quiet, simply taking in the painting. The muted colours reflected the general air that the family exuded. They practically reeked of old money - generations old - and of power. Their house, which sat in the most expensive borough of the city, further cemented the idea that the Lawrences were a force not to be taken lightly.  
“Will you do it?” Tim asked, turning to Jack with a furrowed brow. 

“If it means a night out on company money, then of course.” Jack flashed a smile, one that was normally reserved for a more devious affair. Timothy rolled his eyes again. 

“No, you are _not_ going out on company money. Go to somewhere _you_ own and-”   
“ _We_ own,” Jack reminded him. 

“Well, someplace where the company doesn’t have to pay for anything.” Timothy ran his hand through his hair. His brother was annoying at times but too useful to force him to leave the company. “Anyway, as I was saying, what I would like you to do is go to the east of the city to somewhere _we_ own and show him a good time.” 

Timothy turned around and produced two tickets from his jacket pocket. Jack took the two pieces of paper and swiftly read the cursive.   
“A Dahl ball, eh?” Jack span on his heel as Timothy tried to get the invitations back. 

“Jonathan! Oh, for Christ’s sake…” 

“Now, little brother, we don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, do we?” 

“You’re mere minutes older than me, Jonathan, it doesn’t count.” Jack smirked at the fact that he had gotten a rise out of his brother. 

“Just… Ugh! Just take the damned invitations and I will contact Miss Kadam.” 

Jack’s ears pricked up at this. Nisha Kadam was his fiancée, _technically_. The two were betrothed since they were old enough to walk. It was a purely political move made by the senior members of the Lawrence family. The Kadam’s were practically the ruling family of Pandora, with three members in a row having the presidency. It may have been a slight repeat performance from what they had had before, but the newly enfranchised Pandorans seemed happy enough to continue voting for them. Hyperion was the biggest trade partner with the ‘New World’. A Kadam-Lawrence alliance simply made sense. The only issue with the otherwise perfect arrangement was that neither party was particularly interested in marriage. Therefore, Jack and Nisha both used each other to dodge intrusive questions from other people in their social circles. 

“She’s going to want a new dress, you know.” 

“You’re the one who’s going to take her.” Timothy sing-songed. 

“The company is paying for it.” Jack mocked, mimicking his brother’s tone. 

Timothy nodded, giving Jack the approval he needed. Jack smiled and went to sit at his desk chair. This weekend was going to be good.

* * *

Dahl certainly knew how to entertain guests. The ballroom in the Malhotra house was impressive to say the least. The family spared no expense, bringing in the finest of chandeliers, each made of what appeared to Jack’s naked eye as solid gold. Even the cutlery was made of gold. Intricate ice sculptures flanked the tables on which a fabulous spread of horderves were presented. It wasn’t the fanciest party a Lawrence had been invited to, but Jack supposed it would serve his purposes for the night. 

“Now presenting: Mr. Jonathan Lawrence and Miss Nisha Kadam.” Jack smiled when he saw the majority of the people’s heads turn to look at the entrance to the ballroom. He knew that he and Nisha cut a daunting figure in any social circle and a Dahl company ball was no exception. Jack was in full white tie attire and was constantly resisting the urge to try and loosen his cumberbund. He instead channeled this discomfort into a snooty expression that was perfect for this situation. Nisha stood next to him, in as much discomfort as he was. She was a firm believer in women’s suffrage and much preferred men’s trousers over dresses but she wore what she must for the event. 

When the pair entered the room, all eyes were on them. Nisha’s dress had a reasonable train and the dress was slightly too low cut for what was usually socially acceptable. It felt _good_ to be the centre of attention. Nisha barely withheld the laugh that was threatening to pass her lips as she saw how much Jack was enjoying the attention. The sea of people parted for the pair as they made their way to the dancefloor. Nisha bent down to pick up the train in one hand, showing a small bit of ankle in the process. The gasps were audible and the pair laughed: they were never ones for tradition. 

The next song started and everyone in the room seemed to remember where they were again. Jack offered a hand to Nisha in an over-the-top manner and the woman reciprocated in kind. They started dancing, as was expected of them, but it gave them a chance to talk in private. 

“So, do you actually know who you’re looking for?” Nisha asked in a moment when they were close together. 

“I’m guessing that it’s the young lad in the corner over there.” Jack turned Nisha so that she could see. 

“Yes. You finally know what you’re doing, Jackie.” Jack huffed at the affectionate nickname. 

“After this dance I’m going to go and talk to him. A young man like himself will surely want the advice of an older gentleman.” 

Nisha pulled Jack closer and whispered, “Remember to keep it in your trousers this time. You want _him_ to be in a scandal, not yourself.” Jack smirked, remembering the papers after what happened the last time Timothy had asked him to do a similar mission. 

Before Jack could reply, the song had ended and polite clapping filled the halls. Jack bowed to Nisha and Nisha curtsied in return. Jack left the dancefloor and took two champagne saucers off of a passing waiter’s tray.   
“Balls are always _so_ boring, aren’t they?” Jack leant on the wall next to the youngest Malhotra. 

“M-Mr Lawrence!” Jack scoffed at the formality and the younger man standing to attention when the older man started talking. 

“It’s just Jack, friend. Anyway, I asked you a question.”

“Oh, yes… Balls are boring. But, they are a sad necessity in this current economic climate. Your own company, sir, has made networking an essential.” Malhotra sighed, resigned to the hand that fate had dealt him. 

Jack gave the younger man one of the drinks in his hand and took a sip from his own glass. “Well, it’s not the worst lot in life. Many men would kill to have the life that you have.” 

“That’s true, I suppose.” The young man tried to hide the fact that he didn’t like the taste of the alcohol by pretending to ponder the thought. “But I would like to know how the other half lives.” 

Jack smiled. _Bingo_. This is his way in. “I know a way you could…” Jack purposefully avoided eye contact to try and make it seem like this idea was a natural progression of this conversation. 

Malhotra raised his eyebrows in surprise, “How would _you_ , of all people, know a way?” 

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows and took the still mostly full glass off of the younger man. Jack downed the remaining champagne from his glass and from his companion’s, depositing the now empty glasses on a passing waiter’s tray. Jack gestured his head to a side door that the staff were using and his new friend smiled wildly. Little did both men know, this night was going to be one to remember.


	2. A Little Touch of Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys and Jack meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic i s2g it will be written I am so sorry it's just v hard to write. Many thanks to Erin and Chloe as always (erinchu and loki-dokey) because they keep me sane.

The strings were warming up as the pianist was stretching his fingers. The band was getting ready and that meant that Rhys’s nerves were starting to manifest. He’d been doing this for several months now but every time still felt like the first. He looked at himself in the mirror, the candles flanking the gilded frame giving his face an air of mystery. He enjoyed looking at himself like that. Rhys always believed that he was meant for something different. Something that the young man had not accounted for, was how different his life was going to be. 

Rhys straightened his suit and pinched his cheeks. It was something that his co-workers had taught him to do, seeing as he had a very pale complexion. It was very desired to have a slight bit of colour, but not too much. Having colour meant that one was outside working for a living and that was something Rhys never did. His place of employment was in the basement of a house in a rather poor district of Elpis. Rhys never thought that he would end up here at any point in time, but this was the hand that God had dealt him, so the young man had to suck it up and face it with stoicism. 

The night was still young, and Rhys knew what was in store for him. One of his friends from behind the bar, Sasha, was bringing drinks into the dressing room to get the _talent_ , as they were called, prepared for the night ahead of them. Rhys took his drink, a simple gin and tonic, and downed the majority of it in one gulp. He did this every night but Sasha still raised an eyebrow at him every time he did. Rhys simply wiped his mouth and gave a devilish smirk. Sasha rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back but couldn’t stop the smile that formed on her lips. 

Rhys stood up and made his way over to the curtain that separated the staff and the patrons. He looked over at the grandmother clock that stood in the corner of the room and saw that it was half past eight. Soon, the whole place would be filled and this denizen of sin would be active once again. 

This brothel was slightly _different_ than the rest. It offered services that many did not. There was a bar, dancing, and of course the usual thing you came to a brothel for. But, this brothel also hired men as their whores. The woman who managed the place, Moxxi as she was known there but it was most likely an assumed name seeing her line of work, was very _open_ to the idea of debauchery and was willing to host almost anything as long as all parties are consenting. 

Rhys was very confused at first. Coming originally from Elpis’s elite, Rhys thought that he would only ever be in this sort of place if he was the one purchasing the services. However, Rhys felt as if he had settled into his new life rather well considering his fall from grace. In his early years, Rhys was very shy. He didn’t take well to oration or other things that was deemed to be appropriate for a young man to learn. Being the sole heir to the Somerset Estate, Rhys was supposed to be a great leader. However, an incident with a kitchen boy left Rhys without an eye, courtesy of his angry father, and without a home, courtesy of his distraught mother. Cold and cast out, Rhys managed to pawn his signet ring to get enough money for an old model of a synthetic eye. The lubricant that allowed it to work was a bright blue which contrasted with his natural brown, but Rhys felt that something unique like this in his line of work gave him a slight edge over everyone else. Thankfully, only a few days into his abandonment, Moxxi had taken pity on him and given him a job and a home. Admittedly, Rhys didn’t see very much of the money he earnt but he had a bed and food, which was more than he could have gotten on his own. 

Rhys prepared himself one last time and walked out into the main area. The brothel was probably one of the nicer ones around. Gas lamps lined the walls which lit the dark red flock wallpaper. Being underground, there was no windows and no clocks that the public could see, meaning that the patrons were more likely to spend a little bit more. Rhys’s eyes scanned the room and saw that it was empty. There were a few people sitting in the seats in front of the modest stage. These people Rhys recognised as regulars who often had a lot of money on them. Probably very well known in the real world, the world that was above all of this, but Rhys didn’t care. Money was money and that’s all that mattered. 

Rhys knew that not that many people would arrive before at least ten o’clock, so he settled in at his usual seat at the bar to wait for the show to start at nine. Soon he could see his coworkers make their way into the main room, milling around on tables and taking strategic positions up around the room. 

The girls that worked here didn’t really need to be as stealthy as the men. The club’s patrons were more easily infatuated by a woman because of the standards of the society that they lived in today. Therefore, they were the main entertainment. They wore the corsets, red and black, the stockings, trimmed with lace, and the heels, deadly and sexy at the same time. The men, however, had to be more stealthy. They had to blend in, look like patrons of the club. They wore the fashions of the times, suits and ties that made them look as dapper as any man. They had to have silver tongues and a good eye for the men that looked at them slightly hungrier than the rest. To the keen eyed, the patrons looking for something _different_ would notice the subtle _H_ that was embroidered on the handkerchiefs that all the male employees wore. Rhys never really questioned why it was an _H_ , but wearing it still made him feel special. 

Rhys waved the barman down, a tall gentleman by the name of August, and he nodded in affirmation of his drink order. Rhys would probably have another two (possibly even three, seeing how slow some nights could be) before having to actually do anything. Moxxi’s prices were very expensive, given that the services she was offering were very illegal in more ways than one. This, therefore, meant that the clients would expect service for a whole night. Rhys was more than happy to comply, he was being paid, after all. 

Rhys received his drink after a few moments of self contemplation and he took a drink. Tonight felt different for some reason. Maybe it was all the faffing that Moxxi was doing earlier. She was usually quite a distant person, quite happy to stay away from the main affairs. But today, she was very uppity and was making sure that everyone was sure of what they had to do. Rhys paid no mind, truthfully, and continued with his drink.

* * *

Jack and the youngest Malhotra got out of the cab they were just in and brushed themselves down. Jack was smiling, his teeth illuminated by the gas lamps that lit the streets. Jack had managed to telegraph ahead telling the newspapers of the location of the young lad he was accompanying. Everything was anonymous, of course. The gossip columns were like sharks, looking for the blood of a weak fish in the water, ready to tear them to shreds. Jack was exempt of all this. Hyperion owned the majority of the news outlets anyway so any scandal involving him would be quickly snuffed out. 

Moxxi’s was just here, with the unassuming door just in the middle of a row of houses. It looked like any other house, but to those who knew, they could see the subtle markings of a whore-house if they needed to. Jack walked up to the door and gave it three short raps. A panel in the door slid back to reveal a set of eyes, one real, one metal. The panel shut immediately and the door opened. 

Jack walked in, nodding to the doorman Wilhelm as a sign of mutual respect. Jack was a man to keep close attention to his staff. The man in question had served in the army at some point in his life but Jack never found out where or how because every time Jack tried to bring it up, Wilhelm just walked away from the conversation. 

Malhotra followed Jack in close behind, his eyes wide with wonder. It was obvious that the young man had never been to this part of Elpis before. Jack stifled a laugh and started to walk down the stairs into the club proper. About halfway down the stairs, Jack realised that Malhotra was still in the foyer, staring at Wilhelm and Wilhelm was staring back. 

“Come on, Malhotra, the night is still young!” Jack tried to keep the smile on his face, hiding the frustration at the younger man. This night was going to rub him the wrong way in every way possible, he could feel it. 

The club by the time they arrived already had some regulars Jack recognised and some people he had never seen before. There were girls on the stage, dancing to the music that band were playing. One of the girls was sat the wrong way on a chair, legs spread, whilst a pair of them danced with each other, their faces telling a story that the more gullible of patrons believed, but Jack was nonplussed. 

Jack made his way over to the bar, and was surprised to find Moxxi behind it. “Hey handsome, what can I get ya?” 

“Really? Bar work for the manager of this place?” Jack leaned over the bar to whisper to the woman, “What am I paying you for?” 

Moxxi let out a short laugh, “I don’t trust anyone else with you, Jack.” 

“Is it for my protection, or theirs?” Jack’s countenance switched from mildly perturbed to an audacious smile. Moxxi was always very good at her job; getting people to relax and trust her was a useful skill in the seedy underworld of Elpis. It was one of the reasons Jack had chosen her to manage this side of his business. They were old friends from a time almost forgotten. Moxxi was the daughter of one of the Lawrence household’s serving girls, father sadly unknown. Jack and Moxxi used to get into trouble at all occasions, with Jack being scolded by his grandmother for fraternising with someone of a ‘lower class’ and Moxxi got into trouble for ‘distracting’ Jack from his studies. 

“Oh Jack, always the same bad sense of humour…” 

“Moxxi!” Jack placed a hand on his heart in mock hurt as he sat down at the bar, “I’ll have you know that my sense of humour is just _perfect_.” 

Moxxi placed a glass of cognac on the bar, and poured herself a shot of a clear alcohol. There was no label on the bottle so Jack assumed it was moonshine imported from Pandora, which was technically illegal in Elpis. However, it was the best kind of alcohol if you wanted to have a good time. 

“To tonight!” Jack raised his glass, clinking it against Moxxi’s before the pair downed their drinks in one gulp. 

After wincing, Moxxi said, “Who’s that you’re babysitting?” She gestured to Jack’s guest who was now talking to two of the girls. 

“That is Indushan Malhotra, the youngest child of the CEO of Dahl.” Jack pushed his glass forward with one of his fingers, signifying his request for an other drink. 

“Why do you care about the youngest? Surely it should be the oldest you’re after?” Moxxi poured Jack another measure which Jack sipped this time. 

“The youngest of the family, but the only _boy_.” Moxxi raised her eyebrows in a knowing motion and began polishing the glasses which sat under the bar. “Tim asked me to do it.” 

“Oh, really? Not like Timothy to ask for a favour like this.” 

“Dahl are getting too big for their own good. Time to remind them that the Hyperion monopoly is here to stay.” Malhotra was now escorting the two women he was talking to into a back room. “Make sure he leaves drunk and with his pants around his ankles.” Moxxi nodded and moved over to talk to someone at the end of the bar, drinking a long drink. The striking young man nodded as he rose from his seat, obviously going to relay the information Moxxi had just shared with him to the two lucky ladies Malhotra had chosen.

Jack watched as the man left, eye trailing slightly downwards. Society may shun him normally, but anything went in Moxxi’s. Jack turned around to see Moxxi standing with one hand on her hip, an eyebrow cocked, and a knowing look in her eye. 

“What?”

“You used to look at me like that, you know what ‘what’ is.” Moxxi shook her head and went back to cleaning glasses. 

“ _That_ was years ago, Moxxi. Do you still have a chip on your shoulder? Anyway, I’m with Kadam and you know it.” 

“Pfft, like that has ever had any bearing on anything you do.” The man from the end of the bar returned and Jack had to physically strain to not go and speak with him. Jack had made a point and he was too prideful to back down now. 

“Rhys, come here sweetie.” Moxxi called down the bar and the man looked up. Jack was stunned. This man had a synthetic eye, cogs turning and the lubricant causing it to be a totally different colour to his normal eye. High cheekbones and a pale complexion really completed his overall appeal. When he stood up, Jack had to bite his lip to refrain from saying anything. This ‘Rhys’ was mostly leg and all Jack could think about was how they would feel wrapped around his waist. 

“Hello, Moxxi. What’s wrong?” Rhys spoke softly, as if he were trying to exclude Jack from the conversation. 

Moxxi gestured for Rhys to lean in, whispered something, and left the pair of them alone. 

Jack had assumed that Rhys worked here, but now seeing the silver _H_ , his suspicions were confirmed. 

“So, Mr Lawrence, what can I do for you this night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on tumblr: therhackoning
> 
> comments always welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> What ya think? This is gonna alternate with Actually, No so they will be updated every other week. This is just so I can still have a life and try and write longer chapters because I'm challenging myself. 
> 
> Again, come say hi! @therhackoning


End file.
